


Fingers

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Bloodplay, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingering, M/M, Manipulation, Obedience, Punishment, S&M, Surreal, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Obsession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 11:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16872528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: In which Hisahide is rather good at what he does.





	Fingers

You killed him. He knows it. You killed him you killed him you killed him and just as always, no level of punishment would ever be able to atone for it. It was with a shudder that he felt the edge of Matsunaga’s sword break the skin along his shoulder, his collarbones, as he drank in the sweet sting that was so _mercifully_ allotted to him. 

He knew he didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve to take pleasure in this pain, not with the crimes he’d committed, not with the heinous betrayal that weighed down on him every second of every day. Your fault your fault your _fault_ your fault – 

_Mitsuhide,_ \- from behind him. The fingers inside of him twisted, nails sharp and scraping. You know better than to think about Nobunaga-kou. Mitsuhide hung his head in shame, in utter humiliation, he’d never been _able_ to figure out how Matsunaga always seemed to know what he was thinking about. His body and now even his mind were open and helpless and it was _exhilarating_ it was terrifying.

“My fault,” said Mitsuhide, and abruptly he felt the chain around his throat tighten and yank upwards. He choked and gasped and thrashed, trapped in between the biting, unforgiving chains and the fingers that had roughly forced themselves into him right up to the last knuckle and was torn between horror and absolute bliss because he _needed_ it he needed more.

_Stop don't stop how could you no DON’T keep going oh please oh please please_

“You know what you’ve done,” said Hisahide, and all of a sudden he withdrew, there went the hands and Mitsuhide crumpled to the floor as if he’d had his strings cut – a bitterly appropriate analogy. Matsunaga had retreated somewhere, to some obscure corner of the crowded room and desperately, Mitsuhide reached out into the empty darkness before him, grabbing for and grasping at absolutely nothing. 

_You know what you’ve done._

_“Forgive_ me,” he sobbed, and the noises he made were utterly wretched, until he was finally silenced by that firm, insistent hand coming to rest on the top of his head, guiding him, pulling him. He gave in willingly, he followed to the chair that he knew was in the corner, it was where Matsunaga always went, it was where _he_ went as well, his knees bloodied and red. He ran his fingers over the notches at the base of it, so similar to a throne that he remembered so _well._

“You know what you need to do, Akechi.”

He did. With Matsunaga’s hand resting heavy between his shoulder-blades, Mitsuhide crawled forwards.


End file.
